


snowed in

by fuwaesthetic



Category: Tales of Xillia 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwaesthetic/pseuds/fuwaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Ivar’s just the tiniest bit jealous that the esteemed Dr. Mathis has the ability to fall asleep on a whim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	snowed in

It never snowed in Nia Khera.

That’s his only thought, staring at the white flakes drifting outside the thirty-third floor window. The city outside of it is blanketed in it in a way that would’ve been completely unthinkable six years ago, when the schism had just fallen and mana had just begun to return to Elympios. Ivar steps away from the glass, making his way to the elevator—he’s unsurprised to find Jude already there, eyes closed and resting against the side of it. He’d been working with Spirius officials nonstop the past five years on his research, and from what he heard it’d just been one long meeting after the next about spyrites and how long it was going to be before they could be formally pushed onto the market.

It’d probably be any day now, he thinks, and situates himself next to the doctor. Jude stirs when the elevator finally stops on the ground level and flashes Ivar a surprised look—Ivar scowls at it, stepping out first. Jude’s quick to follow him (but what else would he do, stay in there?), but neither of them get far. The front doors are barricaded with snow and ice up to their waists, and no amount of shoving gets the doors to move.

"I guess we’re stuck here until they manage to clear it out," Jude says—there’s a yawn at the edge of his words, and he’s rubbing his eyes when Ivar looks at him. Must not be getting a lot of sleep—not that he cares, but if Lady Milla were to see, she’d certainly be worried. The realization makes him both sick and angry, and he grabs Jude’s wrist. The other man splutters as Ivar drags him back to the elevator and slams his finger on the twenty-second floor; he holds his wrist until they’re out of the elevator a few minutes later and he has to push Jude down onto a couch.

"You won’t be getting anywhere if you don’t sleep," he huffs, slumping down beside him. Jude stares for a moment, before giving him the kindest—er, most infuriating smile he’s ever seen in his life.

"I hadn’t realized you were worried about me, Ivar."

"Don’t be stupid, I’d never be worried over a phony like yo—"

"Thanks," Jude cuts him off, a little louder. Ivar stares, then crosses his arms and turns away. His face feels warm and he doesn’t know why—his side feels warm, too, but at least he can figure that one out. Jude’s relaxed into the couch, his breathing even and soft, and he’s leaning against him.

Honestly, Ivar’s just the tiniest bit jealous that the esteemed Dr. Mathis has the ability to fall asleep on a whim.


End file.
